The Cheat button
by ShadoWraith
Summary: The epic tale of Emperor Nerdo and the Squeaky Empire, and what happens when the glorious Emperor decides it's time for a little change. . . Back from a lengthly hiatus! The Cheat Button is back and better than ever!
1. Introduction

He was the leader of the most powerful empire in the world. His empire spread over almost every scrap of land throughout the entire map. He had furnished wonders of the worlds from the pyramids to Marco Polo's embassy, conquered the Chinese, Americans, and Romans. He had discovered the Alphabet, Masonry and even Gunpowder. He had so much money he didn't know what to do with it. He was Emperor Nerdo of the mighty Squeaky Empire, and he was bored.  
  
He called a meeting of the high council. They stood in front of him in his cave that passed for a throne room, waiting patiently. They all wore white togas and smiled at him. He sighed and pointed to the first man, a fat, bald guy with a bloodstained sword and a maniacal glint in his eye. "Report," the Emperor said importantly.  
"All is well, noble leader, and that pleaseth me mightily! HAHAHAH AHA HA HAAA HAAAA!!!" He threw his head back and broke out into peals of insane laughter.  
"Good," said the important leader lazily. "Next."  
  
A thin, wild-haired man wielding a bone abacus and shaking with excitement crawled forward. "Excellency, we are the most enlightened empire in the world! I salute you!" He did, shakily and grinning ear to ear.  
  
"Fine," the Emperor said. He pointed to a suave looking man with a confidently smug smile. He pointed at him and sighed again.  
  
"The empire runs well, Excellency," he said in a businesslike manner that hinted he wanted your money. "Though additional taxes would hurt no one." He added hopefully.  
  
The science and luxuries advisors glared at him with pure hatred.  
  
"Whatever. Next."  
  
"The gods adore you noble leader, and distant lands favor our mighty empire."  
  
"I concur, you Excellency," piped in the science advisor.  
  
"Sounds good. Next."  
  
"No complaints. noble leader," said the luxuries advisor.  
  
"Great. Foreign lands happy, war going good, trade flourishing, yadda yadda yadda." Grumbled the king. "But something's missing, or something. I can't put my finger on it.  
  
"Perhaps not enough money, sire?" asked the trade advisor with hopeful smile.  
  
"No, no, plenty of that."  
  
"Perhaps not enough science?"  
  
"No, we've got enough going funding towards finding the cure to pimples. I think they're calling it Theology. Perhaps it is time, yes, maybe I will."  
  
"What is it, sire?" asked the foreign minister.  
  
"Yes. might as well. nothing else to do. Then it's final!" The emperor jumped out of the throne. "Follow me, ladies and gentlemen, I've decided!"  
  
He ran through palace, going left and right and through a maze of wide corridors finally stopping right in front of the war council room, two doors down from the room they had just been in.  
  
"Now, I've always been tempted to use this, but I haven't, but now I shall. Gather round, everyone and look!"  
  
Under a secret compartment under the table he brought out a small square metallic plate, onto which was inscribed a single world.  
  
Cheat.  
  
"The cheat button? Are you sure you want to use this?"  
  
"It. it will go into your high score!"  
  
"You'll regret it!"  
  
"Perhaps. Perhaps I shall, oh my brainless followers, but I will chance it. Things are going to be a whole lot different around here."  
  
"But wait, maybe you should consider." started the trade advisor.  
  
The emperor was beyond reason. His eyes lit up with what was either greed, pleasure, insanity, or some combination of all three. He reached out and with a trembling hand pushed the cheat button. 


	2. poof Technology given and poof construct...

Chaos erupted.  
  
The wise men of the Squeakish empire were on the verge of discovering a new philosophy that would soon become Theology. As they sat around furrowing their brows over a complicated problem that they would have to solve before the theory of Theology could come into practice. All their genius minds were thinking of thousands of possible ways to solve this problem, testing them, and disposing of those that would not work.  
  
All of a sudden, one man jumped up and screamed Eureka-ishly, "I've done it!" He ran over to a large rolled out scroll and began to scribble frantically.  
  
"He's found the solution!" said one man with a very long white beard.  
  
"Not exactly, but look!" He drew a circle with a series of ovals circling it. "It's an atom, don't you see! I declare that this is what all of everything is made of! This room, the stone, the air, even you and I!"  
  
"Preposterous!" bellowed one man with a wrinkly bald forehead.  
  
"Not exactly, he may be on to something!"  
  
Another, named Newton, suddenly jumped up and screamed with his eyes lighting up with sudden knowledge. "That's it! I've figured out the theory of gravity!" He ran to another scroll and started writing physics equations frantically.  
  
A man bolted up and shot open the window. "I have discovered the secrets of Advanced Flight!" He promptly jumped out the window with arms spread and smashed on the pavement below, an insane grin stamped on his face reflecting the decay of his sanity.  
  
"He should have listened to my theory on gravity." said Newton thoughtfully.  
  
Cries of insane happiness and enlightenment showered the air like the pieces of paper containing sketches of prototypes and equations that the wise men were throwing at each other.  
  
"The world is round!"  
  
"The Sun is the center of the solar system!"  
  
"Animals evolved through Natural Selection!"  
  
"Your mother's a chicken!"  
  
Strangely enough, Theology remained undiscovered as the 23 members of the Squeakish technology council simultaneously discovered 22 (minus Advanced Flight) completely random advancements.  
  
The small city of Los Angeles, a former American city, smashed by the ruins of a long, destructive and expensive war between the Squeakies and the American Monarchy, was steadily building its ruined community back together. Peasants in many states of shabbiness were hauling stones from the wreckage of buildings. Their dirt-stained faces mingled with the sweat as they dragged cumbersome objects to an open field where the granary was to be built. They were simply the means of getting raw materials, their skills of wine trading and artisanship no longer needed for a city whose sole goal was not empire building, but survival. Once, Los Angeles had been a large, profitable town with golden roads and streaming fountains, even housing a wonder of the world; the Hanging Gardens of Los Angeles! Travelers from afar would come to see this marvelous symbolism of the might of the American Monarchy and their King, Abraham Lincoln. Now it was reduced to and covered in rubble.  
  
A mother and child, their houses destroyed in the war, were struggling to drag a heavy stone to the site of the granary. They were hardly getting enough money to survive from hauling stones, but it was their only choice. They came to bring their stone to the building site, when suddenly they noticed no one was moving. Everyone was staring at the empty field. The empty field in which stood a state-of-the art granary.  
  
It was impossible! The granary hadn't even begun construction. They were still trying to get enough stone to build a foundation, and yet, there it stood; made from the finest varnished wood and white marble. The people stood flabbergasted. How could this possibly be? Even if the government had ordered that the granary be made quickly and given enough money to the cause it would have taken a year or so, which was relatively quick considering the ten years they were expecting. A year! Even in a year they could not have hauled enough marble and wood, and hired all the artists to perfect the interior. It would have taken four years with a million people working 24 hours a day! But for it to appear overnight? It was impossible. Simply impossible.  
  
The crowds dispersed eventually, later that night. Some thoughtfully contemplating what they had seen, and some walking silently with unanswerable questions leaking through their heads. Others ran around shouting praises to the gods and bringing everyone outside that they might lift their voices in hymns of thanks. As more and more people gathered at the town square, a young boy came running in shouting at the top of his lungs.  
  
"Come see, come see! It's too marvelous to behold, come see!" He ran off, a host of followers in his wake.  
  
The boy stopped at a hill overlooking the place where the Hanging Gardens once stood. And there they stood.  
  
"It's a miracle!" cried the townsfolk "The gods have given us back the Hanging Gardens!"  
  
"Los Angeles has risen again!" "Hallelujah!"  
  
All through the night, the air was filled with the light of festivity and life. The mysterious granary was found full of food and wine, and the starving townsfolk now found that they had more than enough food for all. People were constantly running to and from the town square with news of a new building that they had suddenly discovered. A marketplace, library, aqueduct and all sorts of improvements that had been buried for years had appeared again, as if by magic.  
  
Or by cheating. 


	3. Magic military?

Thanks to all who Read and Review. This is the next chapter, but the next one will be longer and better.  
  
The general of the Greek army peered into the dark mist that obscured the terrain to the north. The rain drizzled and fell in sheets, drenching the men, horses and campfires. He blew water from his reddish beard and shrugged at the cold chain-mail hanging from his shoulders. His breath, far from fresh from a year of eating military rations, swirled around him in a light gray cloud constrasting the dark gray of the world around him. The fog was unquenchable, yet he stood, expecting to see something ahead.  
  
Suddenly a scout came riding in and stopped right in front of the general.  
  
"The Squeakies are massing towards the east! They ride with an army of cavalry and three legions follow in their wake!"  
  
The general breathed thoughtfully and glanced east. He smiled wickedly.  
  
"They ride to their own destruction. They march into a trap! Our catapults and phalanx in Sparta is too strong. They will be beat themselves to death on our walls without siege weapons!" He paused and yelled out orders to his legion. "Fall out men, we will cut off their trail to the west and securely trap the Squeaky dogs and fall upon them like a sickle through wheat!"  
  
The men cheered and began preparing to march. As the bustle behind him continued, the general consulted with his scout about the location and terrain to the east.  
  
As suddenly as the first, a second scout flew in riding from the west.  
  
"The Squeakies march towards us from the south! They have three-score elephants marching and trampling everything in their path! They are not two days march from our location!"  
  
"Impossible!" called a soldier. "How could they have gotten through the south pass without defeating General Thickheadlicus and his phalanx?"  
  
"Perhaps they have fallen!" shouted one soldier.  
  
"Or perhaps they have betrayed the Republic!" cried another.  
  
A babble of rumors flew throughout the camp. The general restored order by yelling in his most authoritative voice.  
  
"Silence! Thickheadlicus has not fallen, nor is he a traitor. However, this news is not to our advantage. Somehow, the Squeaky bastards have found their way into our own territory without us discovering them. We shall meet the Squeakies by the foothills of the White Mountains. I shall send from help from both General Thickheadlicus and General Hippias, and we will defeat them before they can join the army heading towards Athens."  
  
The scouts were sent off to send the messages to the two generals. The men prepared themselves for battle. Weapons were sharpened, bowstrings tested and horses fed. The general reassured the men as the night approaches.  
  
"We will defeat them. They will not pass us. Nothing can stand against the courage of the Greek Empire!"  
  
Except maybe an unfair advantage? 


	4. City Creation 70!

Queen Cleopatra of the Egyptians was ecstatic. Every year for the past decade, the Squeakies kept trying to invade. Not in the typical sense of invading, mind you. Not the rush in with cavalry and legions and archers and burn crush massacre and destroy everything type of invasion. The peace treaty between the Egyptians and the Squeakies was still intact.  
  
However, the Squeakies kept trying to sneak settlers past her through her territory. Deep on the to the east of the Egyptian Monarchy was a vast valley filled with small rivers, grasslands and friendly natives. The sun was bright and rainfall plentiful, which meant fertile soil and perfect grape-growing climate. Somehow, miraculously, this place had remained untouched while the foundations of mighty empires had sprung up around them.  
  
The Egyptians were fortunate enough to be the ones closest to the valley. Of the mighty empires, they were the ones furthest East with their borders blocking everybody else, and they were also the ones controlling the small inlet that was the only way into the valley. The only other way to get into it would be to sail west around the world and then brave the treacherous mountain passes.  
  
Preposterous. Cleopatra snorted with laughter and drank a small sip of wine from a gold cup. Everybody knew the world was flat anyway.  
  
The poor Squeakies, though admirably knowledgeable and ridiculously wealthy, had not managed to grasp this little prize. Their "vast" empire was mostly desert and jungle and tundra. They may have quantity, but Cleopatra had quality.  
  
So began the bothersome settlers. They would "sneak" through her territory and try to get into the valley before she would notice, trying desperately to win an impossible race. Cleopatra had sent settlers, but the valley was large and the roads in were slow, but she had a large head start and was making sure nobody would follow.  
  
Cleopatra took another sip of wine. The doors to her throne room opened, and a man came in.  
  
She noticed he was wearing the ambassador toga, with a broad orange strip hanging over his right shoulder. Orange was the imperial color of the Squeakies. Ah, come to apologize for their settlers' behavior. Well, I'm feeling gracious. I'll only yell at him a little bit. Maybe an hour.  
  
"Your mighty Pharoahess Cleopatra, your gallant thronepersonship! I am here to deliver a message from my lord and Emperor, Nerdo of the Squeakish Empire," he said pompously.  
  
"Well, get on with it then. I've an Empire I have to run, you know!" said Cleopatra, taking another sip from her golden goblet.  
  
"We ask that you withdrawl your settlers from around our cities. Especially the ones near New Squeakston, New Squeakopolis, and Squeakobugath."  
  
"I wasn't aware we had settlers in your cities. Go check with your map personel, perhaps they have run out of orange dye to mark your cities with again and they have misguidedly put on yellow instead," she said with a smirk.  
  
The ambassador turned pink then, but only for a moment. It was a well known fact that the Squeakies couldn't get a hold of dyes because the Indians wouldn't trade with them, no matter how much gold the Squeakies offered. It was a matter of great embarrassment for the Squeakish Empire.  
  
"That is my message. If that is it, I will leave you to the affairs of running your kingdom." The emissary turned and left in a hurry, apparently stung from the dye insult.  
  
Cleopatra poured herself another glass of wine and smiled. Things were finally starting to go her way. Perhaps she could start trading the Squeakies some of the new wine from the valley. And charge them insane prices! She stopped, trying to remember if the Squeakies even had wines or not. She stood up and headed for the map room.  
  
The map room was a large room with a gigantic rectangular table in dominating the center. On it was a large canvas map. Small figurines of soldiers showed troop movement. Cities were dyed into the canvas, and were covered with rubble or painfully re-dyed to show occupation. Blue dye was still being rubbed out due to the recent Squeaky invasion of the Chinese Republic.  
  
Then she saw it.  
  
The map makers, nervously trying to avoid her glare were busy dying in orange cities. New Squeakopolis, New Squeakston.  
  
But how could they have done it? At first she had thought this another one of the cruel Squeaky jokes or stupid attempts at humor. But this was real. Getting dye out of this map canvas was hard enough, but the territory marks were being dyed in.  
  
"My valley, my beautiful valley."  
  
The entire valley was a becoming a blanket of orange dye. Her settlers were moving right into it, and would have to be sent all the way back.  
  
She looked sadly at the map-keepers, hoping vainly that they were just joking, or that that it was some sort of mistake.  
  
They averted their gaze.  
  
Cleopatra ran shrieking from the map room. She tore out a piece of parchment and began writing.  
  
Those Squeaky jerks had gone far enough! Now it was time for war! 


	5. Nerdo's plan

A bit of an author's note: It's been a while since I updated this page. A very long while. Not all of this is really in tune with the game, as some of you have pointed out. I'm going for a kind of overall flavor of civilization, with bits of Civ II (high council, elephant units, etc.) and Civ III (trade contracts, civ-specific units, etc.) in it, with a few things of my own stuck in just for fun. Just bear with me. Here's the next chapter, enjoy.  
  
A nervous palace messenger tentatively walked into Emperor Nerdo's throne chamber.  
  
"Sir, the sample case of fine wines from New Squeakston have arrived. The Germans and Babylonians have both offered fine prices in exchange for 20 year trade contracts, but they wished to be sent samples."  
  
Emperor Nerdo looked up lazily from his now gold-plated throne. "Send them! Right away. We can't have our valuable allies looking upon the Squeakies as being. discourteous, can we? And summon my high council, I wish to speak to them."  
  
The messenger smiled and bowed nervously. "I'll see to it, your highness!"  
  
Emperor Nerdo giggled with giddy happiness. Those foolish Germans! Those idiotic Babylonians! Only months ago they were secretly planning trade embargos against him! Their refusal to buy Squeakish ivory and iron would have caused dramatic trade deficits to the Squeakish treasury. Now it appeared their lust for the increasingly rare wines had driven all their political unity apart. He giggled, raised his jeweled goblet, and toasted himself. and his marvelous cheat button!  
  
"Ah my friends!" stated Emperor Nerdo as the high council representatives walked into the room. "It's been weeks since I last met with my faithful advisors. How goes the affairs of my Empire? How goes it with the Squeakies?"  
  
"Well, your highness," started the military advisor at the Emperors nod. "Our troops invading the Greeks and Chinese are both doing. er. very well. Due to recent, um, unexpected. uh, assets to our army, and some,. er. strategic and fortunate events."  
  
"Oh get on with it!"  
  
"The Greeks are destroyed, sir. The Chinese Republic has suffered border losses. Some of the old lands taken in the Chinese-Viking war. Nothing they'd really lament losing. They are proposing peace talks."  
  
"Excellent news. About time those Greeks were punished for their insubordination. We will begin peace talks tomorrow. Perhaps they have some nice dyes to trade us." He glanced at the trade advisor, who blushed scarlet.  
  
"Our military is in top-notch condition. We await proudly to serve the Squeakish Empire."  
  
Emperor Nerdo leaned back and frowned. "What on earth are you dressed as?"  
  
The military advisor puffed up and turned red in indignation, or perhaps the heat. He was dressed in full steel plate mail. "This is the finest in modern Squeakish armor! It is still in the prototype stage. The science advisor suggested wearing it." He shot the science advisor a glare, who grinned sheepishly.  
  
"And how are my wise men doing? Any. luck in discovering Theology?"  
  
"Well, no sir, but um, our council has made remarkable progress. We have discovered 22 new technologies! Many of which we are currently experimenting in using." He glanced at the sweating military advisor, clinking dangerously. "Our only bit of bad news is that one of council members, um, met an unseemly demise."  
  
"Quite all right, quite all right. Send the family a muffin basket." He pointed to the next in line.  
  
"Well, trade has been doing very well. Due to the recent demise of the Greek republic, our banks are experiencing major former Greek clients. All are fabulously wealthy!" he exclaimed in ecstatic delight. "We have, however, had a large lump sum of gold appear in our treasury during the last month." He grinned, "No doubt from our recent victories against the Greek cities. Am I right?"  
  
He looked to the military advisor. The chain-mailed head shook gravely. The trade advisor glanced once at the Emperor, eyebrows shot up in sudden understanding, glanced once at the metallic cheat button, and stepped back in awkward silence.  
  
"How are the foreign affairs?" continued the Emperor cheerfully.  
  
"Well sir, the Greeks seem to have no problem with us anymore. The Chinese will be contented if we will halt aggressions and agree to a trade contract. They are ridiculously scrapped for Ivory as well as gold. The Babylonians and Germans are outwardly friendly, though they are known to be backstabbing by history. The Vikings continue to ignore any civilized ambassadors. The Egyptians have declared war, but, quite honestly, I don't really think they're serious. I think we should continue to explore the map, in case there may be other civilizations out there."  
  
"doubtful," commented the military advisor.  
  
"Possible," said the Emperor thoughtfully. "I will look into that."  
  
All the council members knew what "look into that" entailed.  
  
"And how are is the welfare of the common Squeakish people? How are my peasants."  
  
"No complaints," said the luxuries advisor, carefully smoothing out his hair.  
  
"Well, it seems my Empire is running smoothly. Smoother than usual. In fact, much better than ever before. But there can be more. There will be more! Much more, if I have anything to do with it. Oh yes."  
  
The high council members looked apprehensively at each other.  
  
"Let's invade Scandinavia!"  
  
"You're mad!!" shrieked the science advisor.  
  
"Think of the cost!" shouted the trade advisor.  
  
"This is foolhardy! Sire, our Squeakish armies are the mightiest in the world, but we are no match for the Vikings!"  
  
The Emperor simply raised one eyeball.  
  
"Sire, our intelligence reports on the Vikings are. sketchy at best," started the foreign advisor, a little more composed, but by no means less fearful. "No one has had doings with them, but from what we do know they are insanely good at war! They decimated the combined German and Indian forces, including the Indian War Elephant! Don't do this, what can be gained from such a foolish action?"  
  
"Honor, glory, everything!" shouted the ruler incoherently.  
  
"Sire, they have the largest military in the world! Not only that, but they have the dreaded Berserk! Their Berserks are superior infantry units! They can't be beaten, not even by our legions and cavalry well seasoned as they are! Why, Sire? Why?"  
  
"Oh? They are a challenge. Besides, it's not as if we're in any real harm." He gazed down affectionately at his grey cheat button. "At my word, I could simply eliminate them. But let's have a bit of sport before the end, shall we?"  
  
The science advisor fainted.  
  
"Gentlepersons of the Squeakish High Council, do not be alarmed. We will defeat the Vikings easily. It's only a matter of how I'm going to do it." 


	6. Enter Bismarck

Cleopatra was not having a nice day. Not very nice at all. After mobilizing her armies, she realized how hopelessly out of date her cavalry was, and then she spent another hour discussing the pros and cons of archers versus the pros and cons of swordsmen and then the diplomatic effects and social effects and economic effects of drafting citizens and war budgets and longhorn sheep and trading of wool mittens. . .  
  
"I need a drink," she groaned tiredly. Who thought that waging war was so miserable? She reached for her golden goblet, but it was not there.  
  
"Where'd I put that- oh my!" Her golden goblet was currently in the fur- lined gauntlet of a rather dangerous looking man.  
  
"Please, allow me," he said in a rather polite but very heavy German accent.  
  
"Chancellor Bismarck! What are you doing in here! Unannounced! Who let you in here? This is outrageous!"  
  
"Please, calm yourself Queen. Have some wine, recently given to us by our friendly neighborhood Emperor Nerdo. . ."  
  
Queen Cleopatra snarled and hurled her wine goblet at the wall. "Don't provoke me, Bismarck; I've had a busy day."  
  
"I'm sure you have, what with your newly acquired treaty of war against our mutual enemy, the Squeakies," Chancellor Bismarck wandered over and lounged in one of Cleopatra's golden visitor's chairs. Cleopatra collapsed angrily next to him and grabbed another goblet of wine. Sipping his wine, he continued, "I'm sure your military is quite prepared to tackle a full-scale invasion of the Squeaky Empire. . ."  
  
Cleopatra snorted. "Mutual enemies? Since when have you German's ever had the backbone for anything other than your own interests? Get to the point, Bismarck, I'm a busy woman."  
  
Bismarck laughed. "I always loved your straightforward attitude, Queen. Very well. The Squeakies are getting too big for their boots. Nerdo fancies himself overlord of the continent! I'm appalled. It angers me. For the sake of my country, I must see to it that the Squeaky Empire falls! And fall it shall, but I'll need your help."  
  
"Risky risky," said Cleopatra thoughtfully. "I never fancied you for the idealistic type, Bismarck. You know very well what foe we are up against! The Squeaky army is the largest and most modernest in the world, and it's only getting bigger! You wouldn't stand a chance my friend, not even with my help." Cleopatra began to stand, signaling that the conversation was at an end. Then began wondering if "most modernest" was even a realistic grammatical phrase.  
  
"Please, Cleopatra, patience. Hear me out for a few more minutes, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the results of this conversation."  
  
"Oh very well, if you make it quick." Cleopatra ungraciously snatched the bottle of wine and began pouring herself a rather large goblet.  
  
"Given the state of the German state and the size and power of the foe we face, it would be unwise to attack straight on. However, I have sources- reliable sources from the Squeaky capital- that brought me a bit of very interesting information the other day. You see, Nerdo the Megalomaniac has begun a long campaign to crush Scandinavia! He's going to invade the Vikings!"  
  
Cleopatra was shocked. She was pouring wine over her hand rather than her goblet, but she didn't seem to notice. "Are you joking, Chancellor? Because I assure you. . ."  
  
"Oh this is no joke, Cleopatra. Nerdo has already begun the mobilization. Every available unit is moving to the border to fight the Vikings. He leaves nothing but a unit of phalanx in each city, the rest of his ridiculously large army is already on their way to the border. Cleopatra, this is the time to strike!"  
  
"A sneak attack? This is good news, Bismarck, very good. However. . ." she noticed her wine-stained dress and let out a nervous "EEp!" She quickly regained her composure while summoning the servant boy. "However, the news is far from perfect. Nerdo's phalanx units are still very experienced and putting his cities to siege will be long and tedious. Frankly, none of us, even combined, have enough military power to realistically invade the Squeakish Empire."  
  
"None of us? Combined? To whom are you referring?"  
  
"Well, I'm assuming Mao Tsu Tung of the Chinese are annoyed at the Squeakies after their recent war. You certainly think the Nerdo could do with some ousting. The Babylonians don't seem too thrilled. However, even with all four of us working together against him, it would take years! Decades! The organization would be very messy, and that's even assuming they agree to join our cause in the first place."  
  
"No, forget them and their puny pacifist nations! We're better off without them in my opinion. Besides, there is somebody you've forgotten. . ."  
  
"The Vikings?"  
  
"Oh, not the Vikings. The Vikings are helping enough by being the provoking barbarians they are. I'm speaking of the Japanese!"  
  
"The. . . who?"  
  
"Kindly lead me to your map room, Queen Cleopatra."  
  
Cleopatra was intrigued. She herself had not been focusing on exploration and expansion. Well, she had been until those dirty Squeakies moved in on her valley. Who were the Japanese?  
  
"If you will notice up here, your map marks as just empty ocean."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Well, there is a chain of islands there. It is the Kingdom of Japan, ruled by their most wise and courageous Shogun, Tokugawa. I'll leave a current map with you on my way out, as well as communications with the Japanese. I'm sure that they would be most interested in meeting you. They were certainly keen on hearing about Nerdo. At least about his fabulous wealth. They are warriors; they live off the spoils of war, and they are very keen on, uh, redistributing the Squeakish treasury."  
  
Bismarck laughed.  
  
"So, you propose that we boat over these Japanian barbarians and have them do the fighting for us?"  
  
"Firstly, I would avoid calling them barbarians or Japanian. The Japanese are very good shipbuilders, and we would not need to 'boat' them anywhere. In fact. . ."  
  
Bismarck and Cleopatra walked out of the map room. They wandered side by side through Cleopatra's enormous marble and gold palace as he related all he had learned as he visited with Shogun Tokugawa. After several hours of talking, drinking, and walking, the plan began to be realized. Eventually, they wandered back into the throne room. Their wine bottles were empty.  
  
"So these Japanesians. . ."  
  
"Japanese. . ."  
  
"Japanese, they will be our allies?"  
  
"Yes. Powerful allies. Their military is very well trained, and their strategists are ingenious. I can only barely beat them at chess, and I only beat Tokugawa once!"  
  
"Well this calls for more wine!" giggled Cleopatra. She poured wine for two and fell into Bismarck's lap. "You know Bismarck, I believe this is the beginning of a very long and fruitful relationship. . ."  
  
"Politically?"  
  
"Yes, of course. . . So, shall we toast! To the Triple Alliance and the combined strength of the Egyptians, Germans, and Japanosus peoples!  
  
"Japanese," corrected Bismarck, but he drank heartily just the same. 


	7. 7: Speedy Envoys and Drunken Vikings

Jarius of Squeakistan scanned his eyes across the unfamiliar Tundra spread before him. Pine trees and sparse tundra grass waved as the cool mountain breezes swirled across the untamed wilderness. His breath rose like curls of smoke, and twirled the snowflakes falling from the dull grey sky. Some ways south in the distance, past the hills and forests, was the boundary between the Squeakish Empire and Scandinavia.

Jarius squared his shoulders and drew his fur cloak around his neck a little tighter. Squeakistan was a warm county- he wasn't used to the cold southern climate. It would only get colder as the campaign continued, he reminded himself. Winter was coming, and Scandinavia wasn't famous for mild winters.

He turned around and surveyed his troops. He was commanding a group of about five hundred, men at arms and light cavalry, leading to meet the group of Squeakish troops preparing for the invasion. They were frightened, and morale was low. Many were green troops, who had brothers who had fought and died against the Greeks. A few were taking the weather much worse than Jarius was- coughing and sniffling while doing their best to struggle through their duties. This was Jarius's first major command, and he was as sure as anyone that the factors weren't completely in his favor.

The soft rhythm of hooves on the soggy permafrost brought Jarius away from his musings. He turned around to see a messenger galloping towards him. The rider dismounted quickly. "Message from Squeakopolis, milord!" he said, handing him a scroll bound in leather. Jarius read the message quickly, and motioned for his officers.

"We are to meet an envoy two tiles from here, on the border of Scandinavia. Prepare to leave, we must arrive before the turn ends. Organize your men quickly- we leave before the next watch." Tossing the scroll to a nearby aide, he walked into his tent. Addressing the messenger, he asked "Who is the envoy?"

"I know not milord. Only that he brings important news from the capitol."

Jarius sighed. "Very well. We must be going soon. I can only hope he brings good news. The men need…"

He didn't finish.

Instead he stared off over the vast borderlands, his mind lost in visions of the future.

***

Meanwhile, as Jarius was preparing his troops to leave, the Councils of Elders was meeting in the Scandinavian capital. Ragnar Lodbrok, Despot of the Vikings, was sitting at the head of the table, his gauntleted hand grasped around a mug of the finest Scandinavian wine. His clothes were of fine silk; his jewelry a mixture of jade and silver. Scandinavia, despite its lack of infrastructure, had a wealth of resources. Its frequent raids had also brought in a bunch of loot, and the Viking warlord was doing pretty well. So what if they were a little "behind the times?" So what if their wise men had not discovered the art of bridge-building yet? It was not in Scandinavia's interest. Nor would it be, Scandinavia's interest was Ragnar's interest.

The Scandinavian council had met to decide on the fate of the Squeakies. Recent forays by their scouts had indicated that Squeakish forces were beginning to assemble around the border of their cities, and it was time to take pre-emptive measures. Deliberations had been going on for hours, and it was beginning to bore Ragnar exceedingly. Only three fights had broken out, and only one of them resulted in someone breaking something other than teeth. Truly, the Vikings were growing soft.

At the moment, a burly red-bearded fellow, Gorfang the Bloody, was making a persuasive argument by banging his goblet on the table and sending splinters flying into the air about the council room. His supporters were concurring with oaths, chants, and banging chairs against the stone floor in a rhythmic fashion. His opponents were warming up for their rebuttal by drinking heavily and shouting loudly in true Viking fashion. Politics, thought Ragnar, truly was sophisticated business.

"Why do we care if they come?" yelled Gorfang. "So they come? We hit them with our axes, they die, and then we take their stuff! Like this!" He demonstrated by wildly swinging his axe and chopping off a decorative wooden carving off the fireplace, then pocketing it. Many heads nodded sagaciously at his pragmatism.

"Squeakies don't work like that! They have big bows!" bellowed a yellow-haired Viking named Slaven the Big Boot. He spread his arms wide to demonstrate bigness. "They'll shoot you like rabbits! Like this!" he grabbed a knife from the table and, aiming at Gorfang, threw it with deadly speed across the table.

It hit the man at Gorfang's left in the shoulder, who bellowed in shock and pulled it out slowly, grimacing in pain and rage.

"You hit my brother!!" growled Gorfang in anger. Then, after glancing at his brother to the left, who was trying to lick the wound clean, laughed. "You missed!"

His side of the table erupted in laughter, while Slaven slumped in his chair, sulking. Gorfang's brother, still clutching his shoulder, guffawed heartily.

Ragnar stood up and pounded the table with his goblet to get their attention, ale and foam flying everywhere. "Listen, Vikings! Squeakies are gonna come. There's no question about that. We gonna be ready. We gonna split their skulls and smash their faces! There no question of that neither. But I don't wanna fight Squeakies here. Kinda cold here, and winter's coming. Not fun. Let's go there. It's warmer where Squeakies live. Let's kill them there! Then we can have more loot! And, uh, hos-pee-tal-ee-tee!" He made a curving motion in the air, vaguely outlining an hourglass, with emphasis on a very round middle.

The men erupted in laughter and cheers. Banging their mugs and chairs, they began chanting and waving their axes in the air. Tradition demanded that once policy had been determined in the Viking government, support was to be shown by getting appropriately drunk and singing the Agreeing Song. Ragnar leant back in his throne with his hands behind his head, again mentally commenting that the Scandinavians had truly reached the peak of culture and civilization.

***

A few days later, at the appointed place, Jarius arrived at the appointed place given by Squeakopolis. The men had traveled at a breakneck pace, and they and their animals were very tired. Jarius had barely finished setting up his tent and ordering preparations for camp when a scout arrived with news of the envoy's arrival.

"Send him in." He motioned.

The envoy stepped him. He, on the other hand, did not seem tired at all. In fact, he looked as though he had not been riding at all. Jarius was puzzled, but the lengthy march had made him too tired to care. The envoy bowed, one fist over his heart. Jarius did the same, and the envoy began to speak.

"Captain Jarius. I bring important news from Emperor Nerdo himself. I am pleased to be the bearer of this assignment. It seems the Emperor has noticed your great efforts in serving the Squeakish Empire."

Jarius feigned disinterest, but was intrigued. Straight from the Emperor himself, he thought. That is big news indeed! However, his thoughts were with his men. However, Jarius was tired and in no mood for vain flatteries. Isolated from the rest of the army, he knew that his tired men were down in spirit. He feared desertion, maybe even rebellion.

The envoy, meanwhile had produced several scrolls similar to the ones Jarius had received earlier, as well as a small flat package, wrapped carefully in soft deerskin. He pulled out a large map which he spread on the table.

"These are orders for the invasion of Scandinavia," he said, motioned to the pile of scrolls. "Our main force is to stay around the border and press our way inward towards the heart of the Viking homeland. However, a few captains and their forces, including you, however, are to be sent on a secret mission, deep in the Viking homeland. You are to meet with a contingent of longbowmen and catapults here, and continue on towards your destination. Your mission is to find and take these two Viking cities."

"A contingent of longbowmen and siege weapons would surely aid in taking the cities, but how are we going to get past the Viking berserks? They will surely notice if we bring our forces in. I'm afraid my men are not experienced enough to be able to engage and defeat their forces alone."

"You aren't going to engage them, Captain. Your mission is secret! Stealth and speed are going to be key here, and surprise! We will sneak around this way, taking care not to be in sight of the Viking outposts. We will move quickly enough that they won't be able to stop us until it is too late! You must leave soon, Captain. I would begin to prepare your men for the march and meet the forces waiting for escort. Here are your orders." The envoy handed out the top two scrolls from the piles and began to head out of the tent. Jarius's patience had finally snapped, and he grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him.

"Wait a second, your Squeakiness. We have been traveling for days, my men are tired and are in need of rest. You are sending us to take two cities with no way to fight against the Viking berserks. We have no knights, no pikemen. We will be caught up and slaughtered by the Vikings before we are within four tiles of these cities! Just what is going on with Emperor Nerdo to send his troops to their certain deaths!"

The envoy raised a single eyebrow questioningly. "Such disloyalty, Jarius? Our Grand Squeakiness Nerdo has explained everything in his orders. Go ahead and open them before you make such judgments."

Jarius quickly ripped open the order, scanning it quickly. His eyes opened wide in surprise. His rage instantly abated, and he stared at the envoy with incomprehension.

"This letter was written only two days ago! The seal is even still fresh! How is possible? That means you would couldn't have left Squeakopolis but yesterday!"

"This morning, in fact," smiled the envoy. "And I will deliver three more before the day is over! The package on the table is yours- use it well, with the Emperor's blessing. And be sure to use it with your longbowmen and catapults. Good luck, Captain." The envoy stepped out, and Jarius stood dumbfounded listening to the fading sound of his horse galloping away.

He ran to the table and quickly unbound the deerskin package. Inside was a thin, rectangular metal object. He slowly moved his hand across the cool, grey item, feeling its perfect smoothness. He suddenly stood up and called for his guard.

"Milord?" asked the guard, stepping in a saluting.

"Tell the men to pack up camp and be ready for assembly. I mean to address them and tell them our new orders. We have much to do, and very little time to do it in." He smiled at the guard. "And don't worry about to much about the firewood and fur coats. The Vikings keep their castles warm all winter. Besides," he added, a glint in his eye, "I mean to be well settled in before the winter even starts!"


End file.
